


Sucker

by Missy



Category: Laverne & Shirley (TV)
Genre: Analingus, Banter, Blow Jobs, Cowgirl Position, Established Relationship, F/M, Food Sex, Married Couple, Penis In Vagina Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:46:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23276548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: Sharing Popsicles in the summertime takes on a new meaning when you're married.
Relationships: Laverne DeFazio/Lenny Kosnowski
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	Sucker

Laverne woke up with the sun blasting its way past her eyelids and the chill of the air conditioner working over her now goosepimpled bottom. 

With a dramatic moan, she rolled over onto her back and groped blindly across the bed for Lenny. The sheets were cool, which was annoying enough to make her pop open one eye. 

“Len?” She said, sitting up. It was day two of their staycation-slash-honeymoon, and it was horrifyingly hot in Burbank this summer. Well, she’d wanted a July wedding, and she’d wanted it to be out of doors. It had been a miracle that they hadn’t withered out on the beach, but they’d both survived. And then some. 

This was ridiculous. Who wanted to be alone on their honeymoon, especially in their own house? She hollered “Lenny!”

“What?” he whined, appearing in the doorway. But when he saw her he grinned, and her stomach fluttered.

“Where were you?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I got hungry waiting for you to wake up.” He held out the Creamsicle he’d been eating, then proffered up a paper-wrapped object. “I gotcha a Fudgicle,” he said happily, pronouncing it Fudge-sikle. 

She narrowed her eyes and shook her head. Somehow Lenny standing there with a couple of Popsicles stark naked was the most _him_ thing she could think of. “It’s called a Fudge - ikle.”

He shook his head at her. “So you don’t want nothing?”

She smirked at him and got her back against the headboard. “I didn’t say that,” she said, extending her hands for both him and a snack.

He sat down at the edge of the bed and handed her the Fudgicle, then got back to work on his own treat. For a moment Laverne just let the thick, sweet, puddinglike flavor melt in her mouth. Sitting naked beside him, dripping sugar, she spared Lenny a look aside. 

He was licking the bar with his whole mouth wide open, his tongue washing up and down the popsicle without a care in the world. She remembered how he tended to taste and touch her and had to bury a smile in her own chocolatey treat. Laverne realized for the millionth time she loved this man because he went all in no matter what he wanted to do.

Laverne flipped over onto her stomach to lick the bar, her feet kicking in the air as she did when she was a teenager. And then she felt something very cold brush the back of her neck, followed by something warm and wet. “Lenny!” she yelped. He sat back up and laughed like a nerd and bit right into his Creamsicle.

“What? You looked…hot.” He chomped away, his smile wicked as he swallowed.

She rolled her eyes. “Len, it’s 90 out there. Now I’m gonna be all sticky.”

“I don’t mind,” he said happily. “Stick to me all day!”

“Len…” She sighed deeply. “If you wanna lick me…”

“Do what?” She just stared at him. “I like licking you, Laverne. Licking stuff off of you is just a big bonus.”

She elbowed his ribs. “Such a dope.” She finished another bite of her Fugicle. 

“Yeah?” Now the chilly thing was riding her spine. Laverne muffled a gasp when Lenny chased it with his tongue, until he nuzzled between the cheeks of her bottom and kissed her there.

This time she growled his name and tried to pin his head. Lenny flicked his tongue there twice before surfacing for air. “Takes a pretty smart guy to remember what you like,” he said.

“Yeah,” she breathed. He was better at it than any man she’d dated, after all. She rolled over and regarded his face from her sprawled position, finishing off her Fugicle.

He was propped up on one arm, which was casually slung over her hips, and the Creamsicle was in his right hand. “Laverne,” he said, his expression sincere. “I took a shower.”

She raised an eyebrow. This used to be their old code phrase when they were dating – very short for “do you want to do it?” The answer was almost always yes, and almost always involved getting Squiggy out of the way beforehand. She loved Squig, but his nosy protectiveness drove her crazy sometimes – at least now he didn’t have any excuses, since they’d married.

“You branded my little Lenny when he was barely grown,” Squiggy had said during the reception, his “nose sweating” throughout the day as Rhonda offered him succor in the form of shoulder pats. Well, to be fair to her, back then she’d just seen it as loaning him one of her L’s. She couldn’t see nine years into the future, to the guy who had stood there with her after her father died and helped her through the process of angry mourning.

She’d never allowed herself to think of Lenny as attractive until then. But what made a person attractive, Laverne realized, often changed as you got older.

Now, she answered him by parting her thighs, which was a good enough excuse for him to kiss her soundly, until the flavors of chocolate and orange mixed in her mouth. His hair was dry and soft between her fingers when she gripped the back of his head to pin him to her – he hadn’t lied about taking a shower at some point – and he tried to slip between her legs without falling on and hurting her. The kissing grew serious and impassioned, and he cupped her cheek with his free hand. He was still holding the Creamsicle aloft with the other 

“Here,” she said, breaking the kiss, and lurched toward his arm, biting the rest of the popsicle right in half while it was in his hand. Lenny stared at her in shock before tossing the stick into the trash. He then pouted.

“I was gonna eat that,” he whined.

“When?”

“When we were done! Girls ain’t the only ones who get hungry after sex.”

She just grabbed him by the ears and pulled him back into the kiss, and teased him with little darting forays of her tongue into finally cupping a sticky hand around her breast.

The nipples were hard before he stroked them, so his little pinches and caresses drove her straight up the wall. He rolled them gently between his thumb and forefinger, causing little pulses of longing to string downward, to her navel and between her legs, every time he manipulated her here. Likewise, his kisses created a long, warm line, down her neck, toward the top of her breasts, finally finding and pulling on her left nipple. Every time he sucked, her hips lifted upward and toward him, which increased the gentle warmth of his lips around her nipple. 

She felt him slide down the bed and opened her eyes, watching his head move between the two peaks, feeling the tease of his teeth and the gentle laving of his tongue. She squirmed against the bed, massaging his neck, the back of his head, moaning her encouragement. His fingers slipped their way down her ribcage and tickled her belly for just a moment before gently parting her thighs. She felt the whisper-soft brush of his fingertips gathering wetness before they pressed inward – one finger, then two, thrusting at a steady rhythm. 

When she began to move in concert with his inward thrusts, he added a third and crooked them upward, bringing the heel of his palm to press against her clitoris and grind against her in exciting circles. Laverne whined low in her throat - she closed her eyes and took the moment in –his hot mouth on her nipples. The sound of their labored, desperate breathing. The wet and obvious sounds of her own pleasure. The taste of sugar, and the scent of his sweat. The dip and rock of the bed as he rubbed himself against the sheets.

When she came she grabbed him under the arm and tried to pull him toward her mouth, but lost the battle for both coordination and dignity, coming hard against his long fingers and subsiding back into his other arm before she could reach his mouth.

“Ow!” Lenny squawked out when she let go of him. He pulled his fingers free of her and licked his fingertips. She realized she must have twisted his wrist in her enthusiasm. 

“Sorry,” Laverne said, but he continued to pout up at her. “Want me to make it up to you?”

“Yes please,” he said.

She rolled him onto his back with a gentle shove, then straddled his belly and kissed him like she meant it.

Lenny’s hand spread out along her back, holding Laverne still, but she knew the right way to go, knew how to suck and nibble on his neck, knew how to tease his nipples with her tongue; absolutely understood how to tease. Lenny had spent years being undertouched, undernurtured; every little kiss made his cock vibrate against her belly, and every lick of her tongue made his body strain against her touch. His eyes rolled back into his head on a long, satisfied moan as she slid down his body.

And too, she knew how to flatten her tongue along the tip of his cock, how to tease around the rim of the head of it, how to alternate the use of her hands and deep, hard sucks with tiny flicks of her tongue. She knew the roadmap of his thick veins and understood the sound of his gasps, the involuntary twitches and jerking motions of his hips.

All of those sensations combined to turn Lenny into a writhing, babbling, flushed mess. “Laverne,” he was saying when she came up off of him, trying to catch her breath. “Come up here, sit on my face.”

“But…”

“Please?” he begged. Maybe he wanted the distraction so he wouldn’t come right away. Or maybe he was being Lenny – the guy who tended to put her happiness equal to his, if not first. She climbed up and straddled him and Lenny’s tongue poked its way between her lips, brushing aside the hair between her legs.

Laverne could just about reach his cock in this position, but at least she could jerk him off. This she did while he ate her with an enthusiastic, voracious if not perfectly skilled intensity. Soon she sat full bore on his face and rode out her pleasure – and when she tried to shift away he pinned her to his mouth. 

The aggressiveness surprised her, but it also thrilled her. Laverne balanced herself against his chest and let it all roll over her body, her head, her mind, her heart, until she pushed his hands away and got up off of him.

She sat beside him and panted, and he knew enough about her to understand she didn’t want to be touched by him in that moment.

"Too much?” he asked. She shook her head. “Only at the end. You?”

“Well,” he said. “Normally, I’d ask you to marry me, but…” He dangled his wedding ring-clad finger before her and she snorted.

“Len?” She leaned over for him and kissed his lips, not minding the salty-bitter flavor of herself on his face.  


“Mmph?”  


She stroked his hair and let him go. “Sit down, shut up, and let me ride you.”  


“Yes, ma’am,” Lenny replied, giving her a salute.

That was easy enough to accomplish, and she gasped, biting her lip to feel him fill and slightly stretch her at last. She was aware of Lenny watching her for any sign he might be hurting her, but – especially after last night - she felt nothing but warmth and bliss as she took him back inside of her.

He moaned as she ground herself down against him shamelessly before taking up a careful, slow, even rhythm. Lenny tossed his head against the pillows, caressing her hips, getting his knees up behind her so she could lean back into them. Laverne let herself be lost, swept away, in the rise and fall of them, the slippery friction, the way he felt inside of her. 

One of his big hands spread out against her ribcage and he began to buck up into her, giving her enough friction, enough excitement, to make her moan and her eyes cross and close. She leaned over Lenny and kissed him hard on the mouth, absorbing his sighs, staring now into his face as his own expression shifted in pleasure.

She sucked deliberately on his bottom lip and squeezed him as she felt herself be filled over and over again. When he tried to take control of the motion she pinned him there, her fingers tickling through his chest hair, making him whine and groan. 

The faster she moved, the harder he thrust back up into her. All at once she found herself rolled onto her back, her legs tucked tight around his upper back, and Lenny drove himself into her from a higher angle. Laverne reached down to touch herself and saw stars behind her lids as she shook. Above her, Lenny moved even faster and she grasped his upper arms.

When he came he actually did howl. She stared up at him, fascinated, feeling him throb and flex within her, then the familiar warmth of him overflowing her body.

It seemed to take hours for him to stop shivering, but Laverne didn’t mind – the minute changes in his face, in his big blue eyes – were enough to fill her with delight. His eyes raked over her body, up and down with a possessive expression, and she shivered, sprouting goosebumps. Some part of her approved of that side of his personality.

The rest of her approved of this – the way he kissed her cheek and chin before snuggling against her, belly to belly and chest to chest. He was still panting from the physical exertion of his release.

“Hey Len?” she asked, as he pressed his forehead against hers. “Do we got anything else in the freezer but the ice pops?”

He nodded. “Fudge ripple…fridge…” He took a deep breath and then said weakly, “love you!”

“That good?” She stroked the back of his neck.

He bit his palm. Or tried to. More accurately, he gnawed on it before slumping against her.

She kissed him between the eyes and watched him regain his composure. She was sticky, hot, and desperately needed to pee – but she also wouldn’t be anywhere else but his arms, glued to his skin, feeling him tremble inside of her as he relaxed.

Fudge ripple and a race to the shower could wait. As long as he needed her, she’d be there.


End file.
